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Ideological Opposites

September 16, 2025 by mountainmornings

When I heard about the shooting of Charlie Kirk, I was appalled, but in truth, I’d never heard of him. Bob somehow knew about his activism in conservative circles, knew about Turning Point USA, but not me. I was blissfully unaware of his influence; I am, however, becoming more and more aware of my environment because of the increase in gun-related violence of all stripes. The other day while strolling through the mall, I turned to Bob and confessed I didn’t feel safe.

And that’s the point of terrorism, isn’t it – to instill fear.

It was the anniversary of 9/11; it was the recent school shooting in a MN church, and then the high school in CO on the day Kirk was shot; it was the local road rage incident that happened in the parking lot of Nashville’s Rescue Mission. It was the woman from Ukraine who came here to escape war, only to have her throat slashed on the subway. It was the bomb scare during the Grands’ first week at school. It was everything everywhere all at once.

But here’s the thing. If you want to distract Americans from the vote that stopped the Epstein files from seeing the light of day, OK. And if you think it’s “too soon” to talk about gun control, OK. Let’s send all our thoughts and prayers all over the country to all those affected by gun/knife/car violence. But Republicans cannot, in good conscience, talk about how we all love free speech, while simultaneously trying to curtail it! Just listen to AG Bondi talking about ‘hate speech.’ Freedom to speak our mind Is so important it’s right there in the FIRST Amendment:

I abhor allowing hateful, religious fanatics to demonstrate near the funerals of our veterans, for instance. I was horrified when neo-Nazis marched through Charlottesville. And I still can’t believe that Mr T let the insurrectionists of Jan 6th out of jail…. that attempted coup wasn’t quite “peaceful” was it? But guess what? In this country, free speech is our birth right.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

So when someone like Kirk is murdered with a military-style weapon, and the GOP shifts the dialogue from the SECOND amendment to the FIRST, it smacks of hypocrisy. When an Australian student who wrote about the demonstrations at Columbia University can be deported, or a grandmother can be arrested for stating that undocumented children have a right to attend school in TN, then we have to ask WHOSE speech is being protected here?

I was even a little worried about writing about this topic. But I believe that Kirk had a right to speak his mind, just as much as I don’t agree with his ideology. That’s what the ACLU is all about. It’s not just about trans justice, or immigrants’ rights or reproductive freedom; it’s about all Americans feeling free to say anything. So long as we don’t shout “FIRE” in a theater.

Or tell a crowd to take over the Capitol.

“But I have seen a lot of people simply talk about Charlie Kirk from a technical aspect, as someone who was incredibly skilled and even someone who valued free speech. When in fact the administration that he associated with and its policies that he was defending and supporting are definitely not pro free speech. Whether it be the college campus lists, the professor watch list that he had put together to even scare professors that he considered to be radical, that he considered to be ideologically opposed to his worldview.” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/12/style/hasan-piker-charlie-kirk.html?unlocked_article_code=1.lk8.7ofo.OWBPkor_DD5q&smid=url-share

Last Saturday: First time seeing police at the Farmers Market

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The Party’s Over

September 9, 2025 by mountainmornings

It’s like the end of a play, the last curtain call. We’ve been working for weeks – the Bride for months and the Love Bug for years – on this past Big Bat Mitzvah weekend; and then it’s over. Our little girl has come of age. The whirlwind of cooking, catering, decorating, and celebrating has come to an end. Our Granddaughter was truly exceptional, reading the Torah with poise and welcoming friends and family with her beautiful smile.

The evening’s festivities included basketball games and food trucks galore. Phones were collected at the front end, so 8th graders could be kids. For the couple who married in an apple orchard on Thomas Jefferson’s mountain this very weekend 15 years ago, planning a party in a park at the edge of a golf course was beshert (fate). The Bride and Groom did a most amazing job!

We enlisted our cousins and Bob’s brother to help string 7 foot blue and gold streamers across the community center’s gym floor. People were skeptical, but ever so slowly my vision came to life. The Pumpkin was busy blowing up helium balloons for the arch entry, and before long the Bug arrived and helped with placement! The Groom’s parents had to quickly dry and cover all the outside seating after the morning’s rain. This party was truly a family affair.

At sunrise I’d collected local dahlias, snapdragons, bluebells and roses – it just so happens Nashville’s flower wholesaler is right down the street! I wish I had read the rules for designing perfect flower arrangements; related to my favorite swirling Fibonacci sequence, ‘the rule calls for using three types of dominant flowers, five greenery stems, and eight stems of an accent flower.’ I only had an hour to come up with 5 moveable bouquets for the day, so my kitchen looked like a disaster zone.

We invited the family over for brunch on Sunday and the weather was spectacular. The after party is always a welcome addition to the main event, we get to schmooze and kvell to our heart’s content!

The Love Bug’s Torah reading was about Lost Things. To paraphrase, God commands us to care for the property of another, friend or foe, as if it was our own, and to return it to them. To NOT BE INDIFFERENT. After all, it was silence and indifference that allowed the Shoah to happen. What are we doing as people are disappearing in the streets? When children are thrown out of Head Start? When families are separated?

Here are some Monday morning arrangements.

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Laborious

September 1, 2025 by mountainmornings

Hip hip hooray, it’s Labor Day! A day of sales, and grilling outside, and saying a final farewell to summer. As I was pulling on my white pants, I had to thank all my coal-mining, union-creating Irish ancestors. All the farmers, and mill workers, the women who cleaned rich people’s homes, the women who washed their clothes. We Americans are an industrious lot.

I mean why hire someone to string a gym full of streamers for a BatMitzvah when we could do it ourselves?

The good news is Bob and I received our flu shots, and we have an appointment to get the new Covid booster. It’s almost like the government was reading my mind, except they thought in a very Trumpian way to restrict its distribution:

“The new shots from Pfizer, Moderna and Novavax are approved for all seniors. But the Food and Drug Administration narrowed their use for younger adults and children to those with at least one high-risk health condition, such as asthma or obesity. That presents new barriers to access for millions of Americans who would have to prove their risk — and millions more who may want to get vaccinated and suddenly no longer qualify.” https://www.pbs.org/newshour/health/fda-approves-updated-covid-19-shots-with-some-restrictions-for-kids-and-adults

After hearing about the latest school shooting in MN, the week after a bomb threat at the Grands’ school, I had a thought. What if ALL the teachers in America went on strike? Public school, Catholic school, private school teachers; what if they all said sorry but we refuse to come into your school buildings with your metal detectors and locked doors, we refuse to carry guns ourselves, we cannot in good faith put your children at risk. What if their one simple demand was to ban assault weapons?

Hell, I would support them. I’d go to every single picket line in town and bring brownies and coffee. How did we get stuck in this gun culture when a majority of Americans do not even own guns? It’s sad to just shrug our shoulders, to think that nothing will change, to chalk up our children’s lives as the cost of doing business. We’ve raised a generation of schoolchildren who have learned to run and hide for active shooter drills, in the same way we had to line up and walk outside for fire drills or crawl under our desks in case of atomic bomb attack.

Last night we had dinner with cousin Peg and Paul. In Bob’s inimitable way, he said he’d like to make the argument to any 2nd Amendment zealot that he thinks he should own an RPG! I mean, if it’s OK to own a military-style assault weapon… If you’ve never watched the movie Red, an RPG is a huge Rocket Propelled Grenade! “This is a shoulder-fired weapon that launches a rocket with a shaped-charge warhead to destroy targets, often tanks.” So of course, Peg asked how a MAGA person would respond to that, which led us into arguing with ChatGP about military uses and individual rights.

Today we celebrate workers’ rights – an 8 hour workday, child labor laws, protections against discrimination, and in light of school shootings most importantly of all, THE RIGHT TO A SAFE WORKPLACE! 

Oh and about not wearing white after Labor Day? I looked it up, and that custom came from the aspiring middle class. Since only the wealthy could afford to leave the city for a summer of cooler air and beaches, we wanted to emulate their wardrobe choices which switched from lots of whites and pale colors, “resort wear” if you will, to darker tones after Labor Day. I’ll let you in on a little secret, beige is the new white!

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Quackery

August 26, 2025 by mountainmornings

There’s a chill in the air! My neighbor Les has moved, the Bat Mitzvah is fast approaching, and the Twins have turned six months. I’m never very good with change, but the cooler temperatures are certainly welcome. I’ve packed away my swimsuits and Bob and I are ready for our Fall jabs – you know, the annual Influenza and Covid vaccines. We wanted to get them a little early since the Love Bug’s big day will be full of friends and family fresh off airplanes. But guess what?

No such luck.

The 2025 Covid booster has been approved and manufactured in the US, except for some odd reason (RFK Jr) they have NOT been distributed yet! The Covid booster is nowhere to be found. Oh well, but if you search around, you might be able to find last year’s Covid vaccine… I hear the new flu shot is available though, which is great news since the L’il Pumpkin just found out the friend he played soccer with after school yesterday has the flu. Yep, flu and Covid are ramping up in Nashville.

And then I bumped into this article: “As Trump Weighs IVF, Republicans Back ‘New Natural’ Approach to Infertility.” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/21/us/politics/trump-ivf-restorative-reproductive-medicine.html?unlocked_article_code=1.hE8.b_ok.-tvmuQ3oUKjI&smid=url-share

Just when you think the MAHA movement can’t get any wonkier, when you realize that the Kennedy name has lost its lustre, the GOP decides to push “restorative reproductive medicine.” After Mr T promised to make IVF available for everyone on the campaign trail, Christian Conservatives are having trouble dealing with those pesky, left-over embryos. It all started with Alabama’s Supreme Court Decision last year calling embryos “unborn children located outside of a biological uterus.” So they’ve come up with an alternative – they believe couples should look at the ‘root causes’ of infertility, like endometriosis or say environmental factors.

Hey, Catholics have been pushing a “natural” method of birth control for centuries. Why not return to the 19th Century, where charlatans in traveling caravans sold snake oil? Where polio and measles and flu killed thousands upon thousands of children each year. I’ve stopped making jokes about RFK Jr’s parasitic brain worm, but I still think that making him Secretary of the US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) was a cringe-worthy, dirty trick. Here are just a few of his baseless views:

 “Wi-Fi causes cancer and “leaky brain”; that school shootings are attributable to antidepressants; that chemicals in water can lead to children becoming transgender; and that AIDS may not be caused by HIV. He’s also long said that vaccines cause autism and fail to protect people from diseases.”

And speaking of school shootings, our Grands had a bomb threat at their school the first week back, complete with FBI agents and bomb-sniffing dogs. It turned out to be nothing, but is terrifying none-theless. I remembered waiting for the all clear from a lockdown at the Twins’ NICU in the spring. The Twins are currently loving solid food! And thanks to the miracle of IVF and our iPhones, we can watch them in happy baby pose and rolling over, trying to crawl. After their measles vaccine, they will be able to travel on a plane!

That is, if our country can manage to stay in the 21st Century.


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Vertigo

August 19, 2025 by mountainmornings

The nurse asked me yesterday if I’d broken any bones in the last few months. I had to think…. We were at Vandy. I was hooked up to a machine delivering my annual “life-saving” bone-building medicine Reclast. Bob was sitting next to me, on his iPad and we’d been puzzling over Connections in the New York Times. We were settling in for over an hour’s wait as this miraculous infusion worked its way through my veins. It should have been an easy question, Bob immediately said “No.”

He also said “No” when I opened my iPad to the NYTimes and announced that we could watch Mr T’s meeting LIVE with President Zelensky and European leaders at the White House. My husband is well on his way to becoming an official curmudgeon! He wasn’t always like this. Over the years, people would tell me that Bob wasn’t like most physicians; after all, he translated medical speak into normal language, and he was so laid-back and easy-going.

I mean, how many doctors do you know who drove an old school bus to Woodstock? He was the exact opposite of a curmudgeon, “a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous (old man) person.”

“What about my clavicle?” I said. My last broken bone was my right clavicle which I never mentioned before dear reader because after the Big Fall last year, preceding the second election of a disgraced, twice impeached, indicted president, that resulted in a broken neck and hands, I was too embarrassed. It hardly seemed relevant. We’d returned from LA in May after the twins were born, and I went to see the dentist. After putting my chair back, positional vertigo took hold resulting in my tipping over later that day and BANG. Broken clavicle.

Coupled with osteoporosis, vertigo is my enemy.

On occasion, the ceiling would spin when laying down after a severe cold. I learned not to pay much attention to that because in a family of doctors These. Things. Happen; a virus can linger and it’s best to just ignore such symptoms. Which I did because they always went away. Until the vertigo continued that day, after the dentist visit. My sister Kay has had  Meniere’s disease for most of her life, and I wondered if this was it. Am I doomed to a chronic disease of the inner ear that will make my world spin out of control at the drop of a hat?

Since the last presidential election, I’ve been caught up in this healing journey. After all, my personal scaffolding was collapsing and I had to concentrate on building strength and resilience. But the fact is, this administration is intent on carving away many of our cultural and social norms, on deconstructing our civil rights. Political theatre captures our imagination; the GOP courts Russia on Friday and the EU on Monday. Hypocrisy much? There is nothing to see here, Mr T didn’t “rape” his victim – he was convicted of sexual abuse and defaming E Jean Carroll. We have a president who sues anyone and everyone, a despot. Academic institutions, main stream media, and large corporate law firms are bending their knees.

This country is experiencing communal vertigo, deluged by a slew of alternative facts and fear. Russia DID invade Ukraine! The BBC’s headline – “Ukraine’s President Zelensky managed to avoid another disastrous Oval Office meeting with Donald Trump,” says it all. The Epstein case retreats as more shiny objects are thrown into the mix. We are trying to find a life line, a way to keep this fledgling Democracy from toppling over. And I am hoping that positional vertigo is simply a phase, and my bones will continue to heal.

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Speaking of Death in Bed

August 11, 2025 by mountainmornings

Last night Bob and I were just sharing some pillow talk before drifting off to sleep, when the subject somehow turned to last wishes. Bob has seen his fair share of dead and nearly-dead bodies over many decades working in an Emergency Room. I have not. Still, I’m used to his pragmatic approach to end of life discussions; I don’t however, appreciate discussing the inevitable in the cozy comfort of our bed right after turning out the light!

I may have been telling him about the memoir I’d just finished reading,

It’s a novel by one of my favorite writers Geraldine Brooks. She wrote “Horse” which I passed around to all my friends in Nashville. But “Memorial Days” is her latest work and dives into the sudden loss of her husband, Tony Horwitz, at the young age of 60. She was right in the middle of writing “Horse” in fact when he collapsed on a street alone in a Washington, DC suburb while she was at home, alone, on Martha’s Vineyard.

She writes about the resident who calls her at the end of his shift with the news – his perfunctory answers, the background noise, his rush to get off the phone. She writes about having to delay her grief in order to deal with her sons and planning two memorials – one for their friends on the Vineyard and one in DC for his family and colleagues. Tony was a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, on a book tour in his hometown. She writes honestly, with words that cut deep into my soul.

Last night, I asked Bob about our insurance coverage, leading us down the yellow brick road to who might “go” first. It seems that Brooks’ medical insurance abruptly terminated the day after her husband died… without informing her. For a month she and her children were not covered, which naturally infuriated her. Like most Aussies, Brooks cannot understand how a medical catastrophe could bankrupt a family. And I thought about meeting a new Republican family member years ago who said to our dismay, “But we have the best health-care in the world.”

I came across this article while drinking my coffee, “So Much for the Best Health Care System in the World,” in the Atlantic. The GOP has not stopped opposing universal healthcare, but they are using a different tactic.

“Republicans haven’t given up their opposition to universal coverage—far from it—but they have mostly stopped singing the praises of American health-care innovation. Indeed, they are taking a meat axe to it, slashing medical-research funding while elevating quacks and charlatans to positions of real power. The resulting synthesis is the worst of all worlds: a system that will lose its ability to develop new cures, while withholding its benefits from even more of the poor and sick.” https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2025/08/trump-republicans-health-innovation/683795/?gift=MZkyOCULmn5OA_9_ikIP-9_sqlI0wYN6ADUWpCxNFxU&utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=share

My sweet husband sensed that our conversation was veering into dangerous territory last night, and so he quickly pivoted to the twins. From darkness to light. Those baby girls are teething, smiling and eating gourmet pureed foods. They are so eager to crawl. I wonder if they will run before they can walk. They bring me so much joy. They sustained me through my post-fall healing journey. I’m booking a flight right now.

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Home Stretch

August 5, 2025 by mountainmornings

The season of family birthdays has begun. And right on cue the weather turned cooler, for the first time I hesitated while entering the pool. It was actually chilly! The Grands will be returning to school next week. How did this happen? First the unbearable heat of midsummer, and now overcast skies from fires in Canada.

We called our son for his birthday and he was busy making bottles and feeding babies. What? Yes, the twins have baby teeth coming and are all ready to chew! They sit in their high chairs like baby birds waiting for something yummy. I asked if they had a Mouli grater – the small hand-held gizmo that looks like a cheese grater upside down. No? I raved about the tiny tool, you could put anything you cook for yourselves into it, ad a dollop of yogurt, and with a few turns produce finely pureed baby food!

But they did have some smart baby food electric device that weighs and measures and grinds….it was a gift…and again, I felt ancient. I’ve been feeling older lately. Maybe it was the oppressive heat and not getting outside to walk. Or maybe it’s just the lethargy of unending bad news from T world and the scandal that will not be stopped involving young girls. Take the first page story of today’s NYTimes:

“A Look Inside Jeffrey Epstein’s Manhattan Lair: In his seven-story townhouse, the sex offender hosted the elite, displayed photos with presidents and showcased a first edition of “Lolita,” according to previously unreported photos and letters.” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/05/us/jeffrey-epstein-mansion-photos.html?unlocked_article_code=1.b08.884G.AM6Pxo2enw4z&smid=url-share

The picture on his dresser, with Mr T and Melania, where he has cut out his accomplice Maxwell is telling. And the letter from Woody Allen, comparing him to Dracula, is absurdist theatre. I wonder why it has taken this story, of all the transgressions, the tale of an accused rapist realtor running a modeling agency and the high brow sex offender, to shake the foundation of the MAGA faithful? This is the first time I’ve actually read anything about Epstein, and it will be the last.

It’s time to think about baking a carrot cake for the Bug’s birthday. Time to find a dress for the Bat Mitzvah. And my lipstick feminist sister Kay has found her graduation picture from stewardess school in 1958. She tells me she was never weighed or measured, and I understand why. Kay always carried herself with confidence, after all she was a single mother when the job description was anything but welcoming. Women were not just weighed, they were expected to be single with no dependents. The fledgling pilot/flight attendant union of the airline industry was the first to test the commodifying of a woman’s body.

It’s supposed to heat back up this week. The Bug has started her volleyball practice and back to school shopping for the Pumpkin too has begun; he’s going to have his first locker! I’ve told my sister she was a trail blazer, after our Year of Living Dangerously she really had no other choice. Can you spot her?

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the Rose, the Thorn and the Caterpillar

July 29, 2025 by mountainmornings

Anyone alive in the era of Chevy Chase vacation comedies knows how to play travel games with kids while driving, like memory games or counting license plates from a certain state. “I spy with my little eye…” Well, since the Bride and Groom are rather old school, I’m happy to report our Grands are experts and one favorite is “the Rose and the Thorn.” On the trip home, they recount the highs and lows of their vacation. I can’t wait to hear, but meanwhile…

“Wanna play Boggle?” Bob gives me the look. “No…” “What about Scrabble?” Bob gives me the look again.

Eventually we sit down in my snug, him on his iPad and me at my desk, to tackle the New York Times Puzzles. Like toddlers in parallel play, we start with Strands and move on to Wordle and Connections. We share possible answers and take turns leading. If the mood strikes, we might even try the Mini Crossword.

Do you like to play games? I love to play games, but Bob is another story. He grew up with two brothers in a cerebral family of doctors. His mother listened to opera. It didn’t help that he just wasn’t naturally athletic, he even disdained golf! In Yiddish, he was what you might call lovingly a klutz – “Klutz (rhymes with “what’s”) is Yiddish for “piece of wood,” and refers to a person who is clumsy.” After his cerebellar stroke, I told the kids that Dad would just be a little klutzier than usual.

I grew up playing color war at Camp St Joseph; every day, with every sport, we’d gain (or lose) points for our team. It was cut throat, even our Jacks games on the cabin porch were merciless. At home I’d play Scrabble with Nell and the Flapper and chess with my brother. I played cards with Daddy Jim almost every night after supper, we’d keep pennies in a cigar box for the occasion. Today, my favorite game to play is backgammon which I recently found out originated in ancient Egypt! I have a few sets of backgammon; one is small and magnetic for travel, and another is hand-carved sitting proudly on a vintage game table in the family room.

Only the not-so-L’il Pumpkin will play backgammon with me because supposedly I win all the time??!

But I’m ready to branch out to MahJongg! Last month after dropping the Love Bug off at Temple for her Bat Mitzvah practice, I discovered a social hall filled with middle-aged/elderly/women playing MahJongg in the middle of the day. I thought I’d died and went to heaven. How could I join this group? Unfortunately, their next beginner session was during our California vacation. Then the Bride informed me that she wants to learn how to play too! It seems that after the pandemic, a younger generation was looking for a reason to build community, and not by going to bars or playing Bingo!

 “The game trended in the U.S. in the 1920s after an executive who had lived in China introduced it to well-to-do friends in California. A group of Jewish American women who were fans of the game created the National Mah Jongg League in 1937, developing an American style of the game and creating a lasting affinity for it within a culture that, like the Chinese, was othered in America.“

I’ve watched my friend Les play MahJongg. She’s had a game going for years; every month they travel to a different house but it’s at night since some of the women are still working. I love the aesthetics of the game – the feel of the tiles, the sound of the shuffling and the beautiful carvings. I’d love to find an old Bakelite set. And of course, any excuse to get a group of like-minded women together is a good day in my book!

Luckily, Les has offered to teach us – the Bug too! She’s not putting her house on the market quite yet, so we’ll have time to learn. And she told me about an addendum to the Rose and Thorn game. After you’ve recounted all the highlights (like seeing dolphins) and lowlights (like being stung by a jellyfish) you add the Caterpillar. In other words, you set some goals for the next trip! Maybe we take in an opera? Aspirational thinking, I love it!

Here is the Big Chill at our Y2K trip to Holden Beach. Strangely enough, Lyle put me in charge of the entertainment. The Bride stayed behind in Rumson to throw her own party.

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Are We There Yet?

July 22, 2025 by mountainmornings

It’s a glorious, hot morning in Nashville. I’ve just emerged from my neighbor’s pool after a blissful hour of meditative aquatherapy – I breathe in, I’m a mountain. I breathe out I’m strong. Every morning Les sends me a text, “The gate’s open,” which means come over anytime and swim. I am a lucky duck. First for surviving a near fatal fall in November, and also for raising adult children who don’t mind our company! But especially for my friend and neighbor Les and her sparkling pool. Sunflowers peek over the fence and rabbits and hummingbirds watch my progress.

But Les and her husband have informed me they are downsizing and planning to move to a townhome. It’s not easy making friends in your 70s. For days I’ve been walking around in a funk; I know that she and her husband will still be in Nashville just a short car ride away, but still it’s a loss. There will be no more “porch surprises” of her latest baking spree, no more morning texts, no more walks in the neighborhood. Bob joked that they will have to put a rider in the contract of their buyer – home comes with well established pool boy and girl!

I dream about building a small bungalow colony surrounding a pool for our family, and extended family.

After this last trip, confirming that our newest California grandbabies are mini-mermaids, I’m determined to make more memories. And it seems that multigenerational travel is trending these days, although we’ve been traveling together for ages. We celebrated Great Grandma Ada’s 90th birthday in Mexico. We’ve spent a few weeks almost every winter for forty years on an island in the French West Indies; not counting the earlier spring visits to Martha’s Vineyard. We even went to Hawaii together after one country closed its borders during the pandemic.

But what if we had one place, a summer retreat to call our own, maybe near a lake?

“The benefits of multigenerational trips are numerous. In larger groups, for example, child-care responsibilities can be shared across family members, allowing parents to take a breather. But the real value of these trips might be how they give relatives an opportunity to freshen their perception of the people they’ve known for perhaps their entire life. Travel can take us out of our familiar contexts, with their routines and set roles, and offer people a chance to see one another differently. A multigenerational vacation can be a welcome reminder that the identities that our parents, children, and other relatives know us by aren’t set in stone.” https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2023/12/large-multigenerational-family-vacation-parents-relatives/676382/?gift=MZkyOCULmn5OA_9_ikIP-xkc3hV2FOFyZx-5RQD57Rw&utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=share

I remember when I went waterskiing on a trip once, and my teenage children looked at me like I had two heads! Or that time we put a pre-teen Rocker on a scooter and he took off like he was born to drive it.

Our Grands are off visiting their Paternal Northern Grandparents in the great state of Virginia. The place where we built our dream home overlooking the Blue Ridge. But they live in Northern VA, close to national monuments and museums. It’s become a tradition for them to spend that last week before school starts with the Groom’s family. And just last week, the Groom’s brother Uncle Dan and his wife Natalie welcomed the newest cousin to their family, another red-headed baby boy! Big Congratulations!! They already have a three year old, so counting the L’il Pumpkin that makes three boys!

If you are traveling this summer, I hope everything goes smoothly. May your planes be on time, and may your seat mate be healthy. May you adapt gracefully to the limitations of aging. And if you are struggling with loss, may you find a way to reframe your grief. Because we are all on a journey, and nothing is set in stone.

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Summer Soup

July 15, 2025 by mountainmornings

We’re back to the hazy, hot, and humid South. Southern summer soup!

I woke to heavy condensation on our old house windows and the possibility of storms in the afternoon. What surprised me most was the constant chatter of insects! You may have guessed, the whole Nashville family went to visit our California branch last week; to play with the Twins and give them their first swim lesson. Almost five months old, our baby girls had an abundance of arms to hold them and proved to be excellent travelers and doggy paddlers.

Recently, the Bride asked me about our Spring/Summer sojourns to Martha’s Vineyard with our friends Lee and Albert when she was a baby. She was talking with a girlfriend who had a family home on the island and told me she didn’t remember where we stayed… But I remember dancing in a cowboy hat, meeting Carly Simon in a dress shop, buying fish straight off the pier, digging up clams on Menemsha Pond. I remember the wooden carousel in Oak Bluffs. I remember riding my bike all over the island, past the pink rosa rugosa hedges with her blond curls tickling the back of my arms from her baby seat perch. We didn’t wear helmets then.

“Gay Head,” I said. We’d stay near the colorful clay cliffs on the wild side of the Vineyard.

But Gay Head hasn’t existed for over twenty years, which is why my daughter’s friend never heard of it. The name of the town was changed back to its Native American “Aquinnah” – home of the Wampanoag people. Which led me down the path of investigating the island’s history. At about the same time in the early aughts, the tribe had voted on whether or not to allow gambling, in the form of bingo, on the island. The vote was NO.

When we packed up the crew to drive from LA to Malibu, I was reminded of packing up a caravan for our trip from the Berkshires to the Woods Hole Ferry. Only this time it was the Bride making sure we had snacks for the Bug and the Pumpkin. The Rocker and Aunt Kiki timed the trip to coincide with the babies’ nap schedule – they had tiny swimsuits and sun hats and even sunglasses. Our Grand’s newest cousins were hitting the pool with all the right fashion notes.

I hope Bob finds the photo of me holding our dog Bones’ leash with one hand and the toddler Bride’s hand with the other waiting for the ferry. She is wearing one of her favorite twirly skirts and has kicked out one leg mid-pirouette.

I am determined to visit the island again that populated my dreams for most of my life. My BFF Lee and her husband Al live on Vineyard Haven full time now. I imagine we attended the Summer Institute last week together to listen to NY Times journalists Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey talk about their investigation into Harvey Weinstein and jump-starting the #MeToo movement. https://vineyardgazette.com/news/2025/07/13/summer-institute-opens-journalists-who-inspired-metoo-movement

After all, it was Lee who encouraged me to write and submit an essay to the Berkshire Eagle. Back when the Bride was a baby and I was hanging diapers outside in the sun, she believed in me, always, and I adored her, my Convent of the Sacred Heart kickass/fellowJerseygirl/lawyer/friend. We picked ticks off our dogs together and didn’t mind the heat and humidity at all.

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